Page 115 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“Looking for the crownbearers.” Faint guilt reaches me. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

“We have,” I correct, then shake my head. “No. We will start with Iagan. He knows the fae of this realm better than anyone.”

“Spectra might have an idea too, if we can’t get hold of him right away,” Dante adds. “She and Sparrow. Maybe… weren’t there some fae in the Hunt? Not Iagan, the ones with Vasile.”

Rook and Saide. My lips pull into a frown. I remember what happened to them, of course. Everyone in the Otherworld does. It is what had me so surprised that Eirian would come looking for a vampire in this realm.

But perhaps that is why she looked in the first place.

“They are,” I say carefully. “They were.”

“Will they be able to help?”

I sigh. “I am uncertain. If Iagan truly does not know where they have gone, then I doubt we have a hope of finding them. They are trying very hard to remain hidden.”

Dante hums. He will know what I do. When Tamesis attacked the vampire clan a few years ago, he killed many of the human donors there at the time, including Crai Vasile’s personal donor, Jamal. Rook and Saide were Vasile’s bodyguards, but Moreau had pulled them back to watch for Tamesis, understanding the danger the vampire truly was.

I believe Jamal was their soulbond. They are soulbonded to each other—Seelie and Unseelie, fae turned to vampires—but Jamal was part of that, too.

And, like me, they did not tell him before it was too late. I shiver and hold Dante a little tighter. Could that have been our fate? Could I have lost him so easily?

Dante’s hands move to my shoulders and back, gently patting as though to soothe me. “What is it? Are you okay?”

He is here. He is real. I feel his heartbeat vibrating through my body, and the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes.

“Perfect,” I say because I am. “I am happy we are here.”

Dante’s smile lights up his face, and I cannot resist chasing it. “We will find whoever we need to,” I murmur when our lips part. “And we will give them the crowns. And then we will never worry about the Otherworld again.”

Dante huffs. “I think you’re being very optimistic.”

“Well,” I say, and his eyes soften when I stroke my thumb over his lower lip, “at least whatever we do, we will do it together.”

Chapter Thirty

Saide

Fifteen months ago.

Rook will not let me hold him. He had me do the spell, even though shifting through space is hardly my forte because he will not let him go.

Not that I would fare better in his stead. I got us to the edges of the city, and then we have followed the repulsive pulse of death magic right to the necromancers’ door.

If I were in a better frame of mind, I might be inclined to say that the house is nice. Or, at least, adequate. It is one house in a long row of them, kept neat and tidy, and the iron gate sitting in the stone wall is half open as though we are expected.

We cannot be.

“What if they refuse?” I ask, and Rook’s jaw tightens.

He is always like this when he is truly terrified, and I have only seen him as terrified once before. My mouth goes dry and I push the thought away. Dwelling on the past will not help right now.

There are wards, but only on the front door itself, and that puzzles me. The witches and mages in London generally wield their wards almost haphazardly, but then, I suppose the witches within have no need to worry about a stray vampire or even the fae. Fae avoid necromancers, too. Wolves might be our true nemeses, but necromancers are a close second.

Rook turns a baleful gaze on me. I take another step forward and knock on the door.

For a moment, there is no sound or movement from within. That is hardly unexpected. Even with magic, it has taken us some time to get here from London, and the attack happened early in the morning. Perhaps the witches are asleep, or not present at all.

The door swings open. The witch standing there is probably the same height as—Well, shorter than me or Rook, and he does not pause to gape or be astounded by our presence. He narrows dark, kohl-lined eyes and wraps the satin robe he is wearing a little tighter around his waist.